


messed around (and got caught up with you)

by orphan_account



Category: The Real Bros of Simi Valley (Web Series)
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Excessive use of 'bro', Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Swearing, Wade is an idiot, so am I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:48:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23144176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: wade wonders why laughing in bryce’s arms, surrounded by his warmth and hisstupidcologne, somehow feels more intimate than fucking him.
Relationships: Bryce Meyers/Wade Sanders
Comments: 7
Kudos: 17





	messed around (and got caught up with you)

**Author's Note:**

> okay. so. meghan broke into my house and shoved this crackship into my waldis-loving heart. and ofc i had to write something for them. thank u to meghan for sourcing clips to inspire this and also to viv for not murdering me for going insane over this whole ass crackship. also idk if its 'meyers' or 'myers' so we're just gonna stick to my unprofessional brand and go with it!!! 
> 
> the title is from 'oops' by little mix & i don't own any of these characters. this was written in two solid hours and hasn't been edited. hope u enjoy mwah.

bryce is _irritating_. so fucking irritating. and wade, wade is a self-proclaimed, _enthusiastic_ freakin’ people person. and, he's proud of it. wade keeps a scrawled copy of notes for his roommate, whenever he's too hungover to even dredge up the energy to attend their shared lecture, and has even made an effort to try and get to know _everyone_ in his photography class, even the blonde girl, who fixed him with a grateful smile before cheerfully handing him back his own chewed up, basically mauled pen. whatever, college was rough. 

wade sanders is a people person through and through, all the way down to the marrow. so, _of course_ it's a little concerning how easy it was for him to decide how much of a douche-canoe bryce meyers is. a massive, irritating douche with _stupid_ tattoos and a frankly awful personality to match. 

hate is a strong word, wade knows this, aldis having calmly informed him over one of their stranger, more intimate meditation sessions. but for bryce? bryce with his shit-eating grin and ability to get on wade's every last nerve? hate isn't a strong enough word. and wade's a fucking _people person_ – hate isn't even in his vocabulary. 

bryce is overly-confident and rude and narrowly mannered, and selfish to an extent that wade can hardly bring himself to believe. it's like, he's a satirical fucking character, and all of his stupid, unbearable characteristics have been somehow exaggerated in some of the _worst_ ways possible and crammed into one, overly tattooed person. 

so, bryce is an asshole. an asshole with a a bad habit of not only pissing wade off to a degree where he can barely _think_ , let alone string together enough of a biting retort to wipe the same insufferable, shit-eating grin from bryce’s features, but of _also_ making wade even second guess himself. and, no, wade isn't talking about the ink sprawling across what seems like every inch of his pale skin, intricate patterns that he can't look too long at, or the mild concentrated furrow of his brow as he glides on his skateboard, he _isn't_. he hasn't even, like, dedicated a thought to that shit. bryce? bryce--

“you're thinking, like, way too fuckin’ loudly. jesus christ.”

wade blinks, startled. his hair is damp and clinging to his forehead, his bare chest still heaving slightly. the stench of sex, warm and stubborn, hangs low in the air; the likely cause of his flushed cheeks. the brunette registers a pair of familiar arms, excessively tattooed, muscular, though he'd die before he admitted _that_ , locked around his torso. wade is even more dismayed when he realises he isn't exactly _opposed_ to the gentle embrace, leaning into the warm breath fanning across the nape of his neck, the the soft hair tickling the same patch of sensitive skin. his throat clicks as he tries to form a response. 

“wade, seriously. your thoughts are like…" his voice is ragged, rough around the edges. there's a rush of warm air against wade's flushed neck as bryce noisily exhales, before pushing out an unbelievably _stupid_ explosion sound. it's even _stupider_ that the sound, barely ringing close to an explosion, still manages to prompt a smile onto wade's parted lips. he's glad his face is angled away. “so unbelievably loud. it's crazy, dog? could you quieten down--” 

wade silences bryce with a sharp jab of his elbow and allows himself to feel only slightly triumphant when it actually _works_. did he mention that bryce was seriously freakin’ irritating, to an almost impossible degree? 

“jus’ thinking about… things.” wade finally supplies, with an attempt at a nonchalant shrug. the movement is stiff, despite his newly lax bones. “things that don't, uh, concern you.” 

wade knows there is no real reason for the bite in his tone, although bryce meyers somehow always feels like reason enough.

“c’mon, dude.” wade doesn't need to glance back to know that bryce’s features have scrunched up, indignant. he half wants to call out bryce’s use of ‘dude’, like bryce hadn't just had his dick inside him, tugged his hair and marked up his neck, but ultimately decides against it. it could wait. bryce’s voice is quieter, more sincere, when he speaks again. the sudden change in demeanor is enough to startle wade, make him stiffen. “a lot of things concern me-- _you_ , like, concern me. sometimes. not all the time, though.” 

wade wonders why laughing in bryce’s arms, surrounded by his warmth and his _stupid_ cologne, somehow feels more intimate than fucking him. the abrupt laughter bubbles in wade's throat, all before he can even make an attempt to bite it back. the sheet slips slightly from his bare shoulder as the gentle sound fills the room. “i--” wade manages, between a wheeze that's softer than he would've liked. “ _concern_ you?” 

bryce doesn't respond, because _of course_ he doesn't. and wade, feeling particularly brave, and full of something akin to fondness (although admittedly less severe) for the brunette next to him, takes an unsteady breath, turning, arguably less gracefully than he would've liked, onto his other side.

and if the _stupid_ , unreasonable warmth in wade's chest only expands as bryce’s arms easily readjust around his waist, like he wasn't quite ready to let go, wade chalks the feeling up to, like, post-sex bliss, or whatever. 

“i guess…” wade's voice trails off as they finally come face to face – which had arguably already happened once this evening. bryce is irritating and bryce is pretty. and wade has probably spent way too long studying bryce’s features, judging by the almost confused quirk to his swollen lips, the questioning look in his dark eyes, but wade, for once, can't find it within himself to care. “i’m, like, i dunno’, concerned about you too, dumbass.” 

the smile, _stupid_ smile that breaks out onto bryce’s lips is enough. wade's hands don't feel like his own when he raises them to cradle the sides of bryce’s face. 

“that was, like, mad sappy, bro."

“hey, dickhead!” wade crows, mildly offended, thumb faltering across bryce’s cheek. “shut up, maybe.” 

“fuck you, frat-boy.” bryce’s arms tighten around his waist, and wade's thumb resumes it's course. staying, wade decides, wrapped in bryce’s arms, is enough.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing it, this fic was lowkey good break from writing euphoria!cody – which is currently like crumbling my soul. that fic should be up in like the next month, hopefully, so look out for that. bye for now :)))


End file.
